


not enough time to stop loving you

by boodied



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Character Study, F/M, Happy Ending, Just Let Byleth Grieve, Post-Time Skip, kind of, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boodied/pseuds/boodied
Summary: All she can think about is the heat of his hand and the weight of her father’s diary on her palms. No wars, no battles, no lives to save. No expectations. Just her and Claude in this moment, hands fitting together like a puzzle.(Or where Byleth is thrown into the chaos of things and finds out that fate is a cruel thing.)
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	not enough time to stop loving you

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVEN'T POSTED IN SO LONG AND I LOVE CLAUDE VON RIEGAN WITH ALL MY HEART THANKS

It is when Jeralt is dying in her arms does Byleth realize that, even if she has the divine pulse, she does not have enough time in this world, in this lifetime. 

No matter how many times she rewinds the clock, her father will always fall and there won’t be enough time to see him retire, to grow old, to free him from his sorrows and pain of the past. And although she could say her and her father were close, there were still so many things she and Jeralt were never able to talk about—were too afraid to talk about.

Once she had rewound time, in the minutes before they headed to fight the students-turned-beasts. She swallowed back a sob after seeing her father, but she settles with a hug that surprises Jeralt. He tenses a little, maybe from the shock, but he eases up afterwards, running his hands along her hair. _You okay, kid?_ He had asked her because in this moment there weren’t any beasts to worry about, no problems, no red-haired traitors to think about. She only nods and hugs him tighter because this is the closest to closure they are going to get before they are forced to face to their fates, to his inevitable doom. Both of them have never been good with words, but Byleth hopes that this is enough, to show him how much she loves him. 

When they finally reach the point where Jeralt gets stabbed by that damned dagger, Byleth does not rewind the clock and finally allows fate to do her bidding. She watches her father heave his last breaths. 

“I love you.” She cries quietly. Her father dies with a smile, holding her hand. Byleth wishes she had more time. She burns the image of her father in her memories instead. 

When Byleth meets the Golden Deer after she wakes up, she is filled with conflicting emotions all at once: Happiness, relief, sadness, and a longing for the five years that were robbed from her by fate. She notices all of them have grown a little taller, wiser, with a newfound weariness creeping on their shoulders as a result of the war. She wishes she had been there for all of them. However, as much as she manipulates time, she ironically has none of it. 

She is, instead, forced into a group hug by her too-grown, too-old students after they’ve dispatched the bandits in Garreg Mach. There are tears in Ignatz’s, Raphael’s, and Leonie’s eyes. Maybe even Lysithea’s and Lorenz’s. There is an ache in her chest because to them, she is a ghost resurrected. To her, they are people who seem more like strangers, just familiar faces flitting but not the ones she really knows anymore. 

Everything has changed but her. 

And then before she can really settle into this new reality, she is whisked immediately to battles and strategies, racing against time, again and again. There is no moment to rest, no time for her to grieve for her father, for what she has lost and what she will never have ever again. 

Claude is the one who approaches her dead in the night as she sits by the dock, restless and tired after everything that is thrown at her. Feet tiptoeing shallowly on the waters, she hears the alliance leader taking a seat beside her before she can even invite him to. She doesn’t mind, really. Just. He’s so different now, too. 

They sit in silence, something awkward dancing around in the air. Though she supposes it can’t really be helped; she just winked back into existence out of nowhere after all. Claude shifts to look at her and opens his mouth before closing it, eyebrows knotted together. There are so many things he wants to say, to ask, to demand from her, questions brewing in his eyes but instead he says, “Can’t sleep?” 

She shakes her head no and doesn’t say anything after that. What else can she say? That she didn’t abandon them for years?

He sighs, scratching the back of his head. He gives her a tired smile, but his eyes are calculating, dissecting her, trying to figure her out. It’s as if she’s a stranger all over again, and Byleth wants to curse fate and destroy it. 

“I guess that’s what a five-year nap does to you.” Claude jokes quietly, trying to ease the tension as best as he could. There is a little bit of warmth in it, small as it is. At least he’s trying, no matter how wary he is. Byleth offers a small smile, takes what she can get and looks onward, watching the fish dance in silent contemplation. 

As they prepare for the battle at Gronder field, dread pools in her stomach. 

She will be facing her students. People whom, in her perception of time, she had just been with a few months ago. But to them they are fighting an enemy they haven’t seen in five years on the battlefield, and there won’t be enough time for her to tell them how sorry she is, how much she misses them. 

Someone knocks on her door. When she opens it, Claude appears with a plate of biscuits and tea. 

“Thought you might want to chat and just take your mind off of stuff, Teach.” He smiled, entering her small quarters. It was a bit empty save for the few maps and notes scattered on her desk and the knives littered underneath her bed. She pulls a chair for him to sit on as she settles on her bed. 

They talk for a bit, just light and casual banter like they usually had during their days as professor and student. He cracks jokes here and there, and some of them make her chuckle and the others make her look at him with a _really?_ Face. It helps ease the anxiety in her body a bit, and for a moment she almost forgets that she will have to kill people she once called allies—no, friends. 

Claude’s mood suddenly shifts as he reaches behind his pocket. “Um, I know I should have given this to you sooner, but I just never really found the appropriate time…” he trailed off before handing her a worn-out journal. 

Her father’s diary. 

And it makes Byleth’s breath hitch as she holds it like it’s the last time she’ll ever see it. It’s the only memoir she has of Jeralt, besides his ring. She doesn’t even have a picture of him, and she thought his diary had been destroyed during the war. She looks up at Claude with disbelief and…happiness? Relief? She bites back the sob that wants to come out of her. She doesn’t realize just how much the war is suffocating her until now. But she can’t be weak. 

Claude takes her hand gently, grazing his thumb against her knuckles. He holds her with so much tenderness that it warms her a little bit. They don’t exchange any words, but there is something unspoken between them that comforts Byleth. _I’m here for you. I won’t let you go._

“Thank you.” She whispers, voice raw and hoarse and so, so fragile. Something twinkles in Claude’s eyes before it disappears quickly. She doesn’t know what it is, but there is no need for her to know, not now anyways. 

All she can think about is the heat of his hand and the weight of her father’s diary on her palms. No wars, no battles, no lives to save. No expectations. Just her and Claude in this moment, hands fitting together like a puzzle. 

One time, Claude takes her flying on his wyvern. 

They both couldn’t sleep, no matter how much they tossed and turned, and so the scheming tactician suggested that they fly on his beautiful white wyvern to relieve the stress. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, so she goes with him and then suddenly they’re thousands of feet up in the air, watching the moon and the stars glitter in the sky. 

“Isn’t this so romantic,” he muses jokingly behind her. “looking at constellations on a majestic wyvern with none other than the most handsome guy in Fodlan, eh, Teach?” 

Byleth rolls her eyes but somewhere in the back of her mind, she agrees. She feels her cheeks warm up a bit, and shakes her head, trying to focus on the view.

“You know…” he says quietly after a while. “when this war is over…I’ll be gone.” 

Byleth turns around in surprise and looks at him, sees the distant look on his face as he guides them to who knows where. 

“Where are you going?” 

Claude frowns, looks conflicted with himself like he doesn’t know if he should tell her or not. But it seems like he throws in the towel when he answers her hesitantly. 

“I’ll be going to Almyra.” Byleth wants to—wants to remove that crease on his forehead with her hands but she doesn’t because why would she do that? And she’s confused and she’s feeling…things. Things she doesn’t understand. 

“Why?” She asks instead. 

And a silence falls on them that stretches on for eternity. It keeps going and Byleth almost breaks the quiet when Claude finally says, 

“I need to claim my throne as king.” 

Byleth swallows thickly. She doesn’t know what to do with this sudden news. She’s shocked, but she’s happy that Claude trusts her enough to tell her this. Still, she doesn’t know what to do. There are so many things that needs to be answered. 

So they talk. Claude and his dreams. His aspirations for Fodlan and Almyra, his plans on uniting the nations. To create peace. To remove prejudice and barriers. 

And Byleth listens. She is so, so proud of him. More than he will ever know. At the same time, something pricks at her stomach and she doesn’t know what it is. But when they finish talking, Byleth leans back on Claude’s chest and closes her eyes, trying to burn this memory in her head as much as she could. He hears Claude’s heartbeat and his breathing and the thought of losing this—

She cannot fathom. 

The first time Byleth rewinds time after five years is when Claude gets impaled by an arrow to the heart. 

They had been ambushed by Imperial forces while they were out gathering ore and other resources for their weapons. Morale was becoming low, both soldiers and commoners were beginning to doubt the success of the Alliance, and Claude was becoming more and more frustrated and stressed out, despite the façade he put up. All for the sake of his people. 

It had been Byleth’s idea to go out, despite knowing the risks it entailed. She thought it would help if the army could strengthen their weapons and sell the excess ores so they could buy more potions and armor. She thought that it would also help lessen the burden on Claude’s shoulders. 

Instead he’s falling off his wyvern into the ground, fear in his eyes as he watches Byleth before he crashes to his death. This was all her fucking fault. She shouldn’t have brought their troops here. 

She panics and rewinds time, minutes before Claude gets shot. Byleth cuts down anyone that gets in her way, and sprints to the archer that is aiming at Claude, slicing his head clean, blood spilling on her clothes. There is white noise muffling her ears as she breathes heavily, clutching the Sword of the Creator tightly in her hands. A hand places itself on her shoulder, and she turns around with fear, ready to fight anyone who kills—

Claude. It’s Claude holding her, looking at her with worry before soothing her panic, mumbling reassurances in her ear. _It’s over, don’t panic, the enemies have retreated already. We’re okay._

_I’m okay._

But Byleth doesn’t allow herself to relax and holds onto Claude’s arm to make sure he’s alive and real. She’s never been so afraid like this before, always kept a cool and stoic face even at the face of great danger, and Claude tries his best to ease her anxiety, but there are questions beginning to form in his head. She looks at him like he just died. Just like how she looked when Jeralt passed away. 

“We…we should—” Byleth’s voice cracks, and he feels her fingers trembling on his sleeves. Claude’s heart breaks at the sight. “talk.” 

Claude nods silently and they and the rest of the army go back to Garreg Mach, a bitter taste beginning to find its way in his mouth. 

Claude and Byleth meet one night after everyone is fast asleep. They’re inside the chapel, sitting on one of the faded pews near the rubble. Byleth’s face is unreadable but he sees the way her shoulders are tense and rigid. 

“How are you?” She asks softly. Claude folds his arms behind his head and stretches his legs. “I’m okay, just a few scratches here and there, something a vulnerary can heal with a quick fix. How about you though? You look…stressed.” 

Byleth releases a shaky breath and looks like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. It surprises Claude, because she always seemed to know what to say, with the way she guided battalions and planned out strategies. If he thought about it, everyone always looked to her when a problem arose. But now…now she looks like a fawn, searching for her mother, trying to make sense of everything that is transpiring just like everybody else. And he suddenly feels guilty, for putting her on a pedestal, for expecting her to unite the whole of Fodlan to achieve his dreams. But he doesn’t say anything. 

“I can turn back time.” She finally says. 

Claude’s eyebrows shoot up as he looked at her with a million questions racing in his mind. And then, “Since when?”

“Since the first time I met all three of you…after I saved Edelgard.” Huh. That was a long, long time ago. 

“How far back can you rewind?” 

She grips her knees tightly. “Not far back, just a few minutes.” 

Claude couldn’t help himself any longer. “Did you rewind back to Jeralt’s—” But she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. 

“I did. I couldn’t….it was fated to be. For him to die. There was nothing I could do, no matter how many times I rewind.” She closes her eyes, as if reliving the memory and the guilt doubles on Claude’s conscience. He hadn’t been aware about Byleth’s own feelings, focusing solely on his goal. Sure, he chatted with her and stole glances from time to time, and they were up on that wyvern and shared deep intimate moments—but it’s now that he realizes that he never really took the time to actually, seriously understand Byleth’s disposition. 

She just woke up from a five-year slumber, unaware of whatever had transpired. The death of her father, the disappearance of Rhea, the reveal of Edelgard as the flame emperor, it was all still so fresh for her. And then everyone, including himself, selfishly decided that she was suddenly ready for all of this, dragging her to do god-knows-what because they all expected her to save them all from this war. As if she was a messiah. They didn’t even give her time to mourn. 

He had used her. 

And then a sudden realization washes over him, the way she had panicked and gripped onto him that day they went out. “You saw me die.” 

Byleth offers nothing more but a nod. Claude thinks quietly, tries not to let any of these new…thoughts and ideas make him panic, and instead focuses on Byleth. The woman who held the whole world on her shoulders alone. He can already see her resolve crumbling bit by bit so he, without thinking, pulls her into a hug that makes Byleth squeak before she hesitantly settles in their embrace. This is fine. Claude ignores the ringing in his ears. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. It must be hard for you. To deal with all of this.” He says, barely audible. He doesn’t know what to do or what to expect because this woman is an enigma and it seems like she doesn’t know what to do either so they just stay like that, in silence, listening to the crickets sing in the night. 

It’s the first time Claude sees Byleth cry. Tears wet his shirt, but Claude doesn’t give a shit. He hugs her tighter. He had been selfish long enough. It was time for Byleth to be selfish, too. 

Byleth understands that she cannot allow herself to be swallowed by emotions, especially at a time like this. And yet. 

_And yet_ she realizes that she had fallen in love with Claude because how could she not? _How could she not?_

But she sees him being ogled and sweet-talked to by both men and women alike, charmed by his annoyingly handsome looks and smiles. She realizes that one day, after this war is over, Claude will be with someone whom he truly loves, and they will go far, far away to Almyra where Byleth will never see them. And Byleth wants it to be her so badly, but there is not enough time for trivialities when there are people depending their whole lives—their whole futures—on her to win this war. To lead Fodlan, as if she had any choice to decline this responsibility. She cannot allow herself this luxury. 

She is a weapon that must be utilized to the very end. 

So she tries to crush these feelings and swallows thickly, holding her sword in her hand. She tucks away the love she knows she won’t be able to get in return because this is for the best. Both of them have duties to fulfill. They cannot be in love, Byleth decided grimly, even as she begs fate secretly to let them be. 

When they defeat Nemesis, something bittersweet washes over Byleth. 

Everyone is crying, celebrating, because— _Goddess_ —the war is finally over and they don’t have to worry about dying and fighting and wondering when they would bite the dust. 

But an ache takes place in Byleth’s chest instead because she knows that now everything is over, she will become the new Archbishop—the new queen—and Claude won’t be there anymore. And there will be new duties for her and there won’t be enough time for her to tell Claude how much she loves him, how lonely this war has made her, how much she longs to be free of this weight and just. Be at peace. 

There is always not enough time for Byleth. 

So she turns around, leaves the festivities, and drags her feet to wherever it takes her. She doesn’t notice Claude trailing behind her quietly. She reaches a small forest and kneels down, dropping the sword from her hand as she runs it on her face. 

“Hey.” 

He crouches beside her, putting a hand on the small of her back. _Don’t do that,_ she thinks. _Don’t hurt me like this anymore._

“What’s upsetting you, my friend?” He gazes into her eyes with sincerity. He doesn’t bombard her with questions, doesn’t make her feel like she doesn’t deserve to be upset, and allows her to wallow in this emptiness she feels. This— _This_ is what hurts Byleth the most because she knows she can’t have it forever. 

“I wish you would stay.” Byleth whispers. Claude freezes and she sees the conflict in his eyes but he stays quiet. He doesn’t say a fucking word and, funnily enough, that answers Byleth’s questions. She’s not angry, not disappointed. She knows it is his fate to be king and she can’t be selfish. But it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

She stands up and walks away from Claude. He doesn’t follow her this time.

“Can we please talk?” 

It’s a day before Claude leaves for Almyra, as most have already gone back to their families and homes. All of Byleth’s students have said their farewells, promising to visit her in the monastery from time to time as they all shed a few tears. It filled Byleth with warmth and pride and sadness when she watched them leave and become who they were meant to be. 

“Okay.” Byleth finally replies, and he leads her to the library. This had always been Claude’s favorite spot in the monastery, she remembers. He locks the door to not let any intruders come in, although it doesn’t seem necessary when everyone is out either celebrating or preparing to return home. 

“I…” Claude fidgets. “I was thinking. About what you said. After Nemesis.” 

Byleth holds her breath and tries not to expect anything.

(But if she had a heart, it would be pounding against her chest, trying to crawl its way out of her throat.) 

Claude inhales deeply and then, “I know I’ll regret it if I never said anything, but I love you with all my heart.” 

Something inside Byleth cracks and she throws herself in Claude’s arms, who embraces her without a second thought. She knows there’s more coming with that sentence but she’s not ready to hear it yet. She wants to have this moment because it’s the only time she’ll ever have it. She feels his shoulders shake. 

She realizes that he’s crying in her hair and Byleth wants nothing more but to kiss him silly so she does. She kisses him until their lips are puffed and Claude’s eyes are red. They kiss until they forget who they’re supposed to be in this world. In that moment, they’re two lovers, desperate for the other’s embrace. 

Byleth unlocks the library door, dragging both of them to her room and, behind closed doors, they make love like it’s the last time they’ll ever do it. Maybe because it is. Maybe not. She tries not to think. She feels Claude as much as she can, becomes selfish and owns every part of his body for the night, as if it’s her own. 

And they both know this will hurt so, so much when he leaves tomorrow but they don’t think about it now. They indulge in each other’s touch, taste every inch of skin and whisper words that Byleth wants to hear endlessly. Forever.

That night they don’t sleep. Claude, naked, holds Byleth close to him. 

“I love you so much.” He whispers. Byleth clutches his hand tight and doesn't let go, feels his calloused fingers underneath her own fingertips. 

“I know you can’t stay here in Fodlan,” she murmurs. “But I want you to be happy. Always.” 

Claude kisses her eyes. He cups her cheeks with his hands and looks at her eyes with so much want and desperateness that it leaves Byleth on fire. 

"I know I used you, made you into this sort of--" Claude's voice shakes. "weapon that I needed to have to make my dreams come true. But I want you to know that....you've changed me. For the better. And I can't imagine a life without you. I know you'll be busy being the new archbishop, and I know it seems unfair that all of this was thrown at you but...I know no one else can do it but you." He stares at her, waiting for any negative reactions before he continued on. "Fodlan needs you. I...I need you. I know you'll have to wait for me but I promise I'll return. When we finally create the new world, we'll watch it together. Side by side." 

Byleth breathes in and, well, even if she didn't want to rule Fodlan, she knows it will crumble in the hands of another leader. They didn't fight this long, this hard, to let it fall to pieces. And she wants to help fulfill Claude's dreams because it's what she wants as well, for this cruel world she fought so hard for. 

"Okay," she breathes out. "okay." 

They stay in a long, silent embrace, cherishing every second. Byleth inhales his scent; Claude cradles her in his arms. She wants to rewind time, to keep repeating this moment forever and ever. But she doesn't. Because she can't keep running, cannot cheat fate. Soon, millions will look up to her for her guidance. And she will break and crack. But she knows Claude will be there to catch the pieces before they leave her. And they will bring their dreams to life--together. 

When morning arrives, Claude is gone. All she has left of him is a ring and a promise. She faces the day, head held high, mouth set in a line, determined to become the leader Fodlan needs her to be. This is her duty. For her people. For Claude. 

And for her own dreams. This time, time cannot stop her, even if it plays her like a fool.

**Author's Note:**

> give me comments and prompts lol


End file.
